


It's Too Quiet In This Room

by Happimango



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pre-Canon, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:28:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29373108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happimango/pseuds/Happimango
Summary: Archie Andrews has always liked sports, more than Reggie ever had. Reggie didn't care for the spotlight until it was the only way for him to be seen. On those gold tinted days tinged with sweat and exhaustion and euphoria where his dad would take his son to celebrate at Pop's, and he'd share a wide grin like he had a son to be proud of: a winner.
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Reggie Mantle
Kudos: 3





	It's Too Quiet In This Room

**Author's Note:**

> Just a closer look at Reggie's character and his relationships with his dad, Archie, and a bit of Archies dad. Idk. I've got alot of Opinions about Reggie, Archie, and Sweet Pea, who gets an honorable mention for always being in my heart <3  
> (Title from Blood In The Cut)

Reggie Mantle has liked sports since he discovered the wide grin his dad shared with him when he won, when he was the best, when he was a son to be proud of. He didn't always love sports, and he wasn't always a son to be proud of. Alot of the time he's still not. But, in those glorious moments he hits a home run, or runs the winning touchdown, or shoots the last hoop - he can pretend he is. Helps that his dad does too. On those gold lighted days tinged with sweat and exhaustion and euphoria he'd take his winning son to Pop's to celebrate with onion rings and an orange cream shake - just for him. Not to schmooze some business deal on a car worth more and of infinite more value than him, but to celebrate his son, proudly. 

That's what it was about to Reggie. He didn't need to be better than his teammates, didn't care about the spotlight until it was the only way he could finally be seen. 

Archie Andrews has always liked sports. There was no moment for him like there was Reggie, he's just always enjoyed playing sports more than Reggie ever had. He didn't play for the end. Like Reggie, his dad would rarely be there to watch him. Reggie liked Archie. He cared about his teammates, didn't care about the spot light, and always wanted to help. It didn't matter to him if he played outfield or pitcher: he played for the team, as whatever the team needed him to be. He knew he wanted to be his best friend when Archie showed him a new way to play: when Archie went over to the loosing team (because he was on Reggie's team, and Reggie's team always won) like it was no big deal, and he talked to them, and complimented them, and asked one of them for pointers. It felt like the world shifted on it's axis for Reggie. 

The next time, Reggie was disappointed to learn Archie got put on the other team. Reggie won, of course, so Archie lost. It didn't feel good like usual, but that might've been the empty seat his dad hadn't filled looming in Reggie's peripheral. Archie wasn't angry about losing, and he congratulated Reggie. Even without his dad there, Reggie had fun competing against Archie, who didn't care if he won or lost. It felt nice. Strange, unorthodox and foreign, but refreshing. He felt bad because Archies dad was there. Archies dad saw him loose, and Reggie's dad didn't see him win. To him, he felt like they were both losers. 

Archies smile didn't fall when he saw his dad, though, and his dads smile didn't fall when he saw his (loser) son. Archie introduced him to his dad, Fred Andrews; a man with hard, calloused hands and soft, kind eyes. Archie also introduced his dad to him, his friend. Mr. Andrews praised his performance in front of Archie, but it wasn't awkward or tense, because he praised Archies too. That day, Reggie learned the Andrews family didn't care about winning. It made something uncomfortable settle down in his belly, and he declined their invitation out to Pop's. 

The uncomfortable feeling, like greese had slithered down into his guts, hanuted him the following days. Mr. Andrews took his son out to Pop's, but Archie didn't win. Reggie won, and his dad wasn't there. 

He ignored it. It was easy to do, blinded by Archie's honest good intentions and friendly smile. He learned his dad owned a construction company, so he was usually busy busting rocks with his crew, but he still tried to make time to cheer for Archie. Reggie told him his dad owned a car company, and felt proud of his dad when Archie enthused about how cool that was. Reggie didn't tell him what his dad did at his company or why he was usually too busy to come watch Reggie, why he never cheered for Reggie. He didn't know. Didn't know if he really tried to come watch Reggie when he could: he did know he never cheered for him. Certainly not as much as Mr. Andrews did, who he saw another four times before his own dad. All were exceedingly pleasant, and the slimy feeling had mostly oozed away when he again turned down another invitation. It melted entirely when he accepted, and he was excited to share a tradition with them. Although Mr. Andrews insisted he called him Fred. It felt awkward and heavy to call and adult by their first name, but it got easier the more he did it, and it made Mr. Andrews - Fred, happy. 

Turns out, Fred knew a little about cars, something Archie didn't appreciate nearly as much as he should, in Reggie's opinion. Fred talked and talked and let Reggie talk and ask questions all about working on cars, and even Archie started to get interested in it. It felt nice, their lunches at Pop's, not like him and his dad's, but nice in a different way. 

Then, while he was sneaking his customary glances to the bleachers, his dad appeared. He was glad. Archie was great, he was very happy at making his first real friend, but seeing Archie and Archie's dad together made him yearn for his own dad, for his own celebratory lunches at Pop's that just couldn't be substituted with Fred Andrews. This was his chance. 

He was always excited when he got to play with Archie, they worked so well together - like the well oiled machines his dad never lets him touch. Archie had been getting better all season, and even beat Reggie in a few practice games. It was fun playing against him, to compete against him, and losing to Archie Andrews didn't feel too bad either. But together, they were unstoppable. They would win.

They didn't win.

Reggie had passed the ball to Arch, after a quick faux throw they'd perfected. It was easy when they didn't even have to talk to communicate. It went perfectly, as usual, but another player tackled Archie, sending the both of them crashing down with only Archie's hand to cushion them. It looked painful. Archies cry sounded worse. Reggie was too far away to help Arch off the field, could only watch as his best friend was carried off the field, and their coach sent a new player on. Reggie tried to win the game, but their opponents were ruthless, caring more about winning than who they hurt to get there. They lost. Reggie lost. 

His dad caught him immediately after. Scolding him, he made it very clear he was disappointed, and Reggie got it. The one time his dad takes time out of his schedule to watch him and he can't even win. He was disappointed in himself. They start to head home, and Reggie knows there will be no Pop's tonight. 

They pass the Andrews on their way out, Reggie with his head bowed, unable to meet his dads hard, cold eyes, nd Marty's held high, one soft, sharp hand on Reggie's shoulder, steering him.. Reggie knows better than to say anything right now, but Archie doesnt.

"Hey Reg," Archie, puffy red eyes and half supported by his dad, says. His arms in a sling, and he's limping, but he's still smiling. Reggie hates him a little for it, but it's eclipsed by the hatred he feels for himself. 

Marty Mantle halts, his wingtip shoes making a final tap akin to a gunshot, before he whirls to face the other family. "Don't speak to my son," He says, calm as ever, and only Reggie can hear the snarl behind his words. 

Archie, when Reggie sneaks a glance up at him, looks gobsmacked. His dad is there to speak for him, but that's somehow worse. "Excuse me?" Fred asks.

"You're son," Marty emphasizes with a sharp point to the injured kid, "cost us the win!"

It's Fred's turn to look gobsmacked, though it doesn't last as long. "My son got hurt playing a children's sports game, I'm sorry if winning is all that's important to you," Fred's brows furrow in a stony disapproval Reggie's never seen on the man's face, a stony disapproval Reggie's sure he's never shown his own son. Reggie swallows the bitter resentment clogging his throat, that he should be so familiar with it on his own fathers face. 

"It's that kind of attitude I don't want my son around,"

"Valuing other people?"

"Distracting him from what's important!" 

"What's important-"

"Dad, stop," Archie begs, voice low and head lower. Reggie blinks, wide eyed, as Fred listens to him. He doesnt explode at his son for interrupting him or the adults, like Reggie's dad so clearly wants to. Instead, Fred takes a calming breath and one last cutting glare at Marty, looks at Reggie. 

"We're gonna get out of here, grab some Pop's since Archie doesnt need to go to the doctor," He says, "You're welcome to join us?"

The hand his dad had been using to steer him out turns into a claw on his shoulder, and the bitter resentment comes bubbling back up his throat so quick he thinks he might gag. Instead, he says, 

"No thanks, Mr. Andrews. I think I'd better concentrate on whats important from now on." It hurts to say, but he figures its like ripping off a band aid. He knows it's right, it's what his dad thinks so it has to be, and he can tell his dads pleased with his response, even if he isn't. But that's ok. He knows he can get over it, but his dad can't. 

His dad isn't adaptable like he is. Reggie can take it, can move on and past things and survive things better than anyone.

That night, his dad sends him to his room without supper, and they don't speak about it - any of it: his failures, the Andrews - again. The night didn't end with Pop's, like it would have with Fred - Mr. Andrews, but when he got home his dad keeps his belt on. The silence between praise and punishment is a compromise he's long adapted to.

**Author's Note:**

> I have drafts upon drafts of riverdale stuff because nothing ends in a satisfactory way on that show, but I have no time atm to edit them into a full story. This felt ok as a stand alone though, so here we are. Tell me what you think, I promise you're cooler than I am lmao


End file.
